You'll See Me and I'll See You
by Catori Simone Winston
Summary: Three Word or Song Prompt Fic. Chapter 6- Sherlock... On the computer has found a computer game. This will not bode well for any parties involved. "Sherlock, are you playing a… computer game?" John said, his eyes sparkling with amusement."
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I know, I know, you all are saying not *another* story! Finish the ones you have! (You might not be saying this but some part of my brain is...) I will start on the others soon. Just wanted to get this one up because I have a soft spot for this story.

Ok, here's the dirt on this story... I get a three word prompt, the three word prompt can be an emotion, an inanimate object, anything that is G rated **OR** I can get a song. If the song isn't "G rated" then I can most likely find the clean version... So, yeah...

**song or three word prompt. **

**It will be for specifically the characters Sherlock and John.**

I receive one of those or more (you can give me like five prompts, s'all good.) from you lovely readers and I will create a chapter for it. You, the reader and prompt giver, will of course be credited. :)

So, this story will have plenty of chapters of friendship, bromance, pre-slash and JohnLock. There's a bit in for everyone! I will also give a warning/disclaimer thing that will kind of give you the gist of what is going on. So, if something isn't your thing you can skip it. :) Also, in your prompt if you do not specify what relationship you want the boys to have then I will automatically assume friendship, if the prompt does not say otherwise.

Thanks y'all! Hope you enjoy! And start sending me reviews and PMs with those prompts! :D

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**_This Story is:_**

_Relationship: Bromance/Friendship_

_Genre: Friendship/Angst/Sad Feelings_

_Prompt Words: Sad, Book, Door_

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Sherlock laid on the couch, reading a book depicting the ways that different strains of bacteria could grow. John watched as Sherlock read the same page again. In the last ten minutes of watching his mad flatmate, Sherlock hadn't moved to turn the page, to make any notes on the notebook near him or even move to put the book down and go into his mind palace. John watched concerned as he tilted his head to get a better look at Sherlock. From this angle you could almost say Sherlock looked sad. John shook his head. Sherlock's emotions were normally under lock and key; so to see them this open, behind an open book no less, was a bit startling for John. A thousand questions ran in John's mind, wondering about why he could be sad, what had happened that could affect him this badly? John sighed as he took a sip of cooled tea.

"John?" John looked at Sherlock who still hadn't looked up.

"Hmmm?"

"Unless you plan to explain what had you in deep thought, please stop. It's extremely annoying."

"Ok then." John sighed again. He began getting up and saw Sherlock's eyes following him. John went to go grab his jacket and looked at Sherlock.

"You want to go for a walk?"

"No. You go on." Sherlock replied looking back at his book.

"I'll be in the park." John said, hoping Sherlock would get up and find him there. He looked like he needed to go out, but John knew not to prod. Sherlock nodded and John reached for the doorknob and pulled. The door shut leaving Sherlock in 221B alone. His eyes welled for a moment before he took a deep breath and dropped the book, snatched his coat and scarf and was calling after John down the street.

Back in 221B Baker Street on the ground with the black book Sherlock was reading was a picture, half covered. It depicted a child, around 14 or 15 with a woman. They looked shockingly alike, the black curls, piercing blue eyes and slim figures. The boy had a true smile on his face as he posed for the picture and the women held the boy close to her, like she didn't want any of the world touching her child. She held the boy, as if doing so would stop the world from tainting him. On the back read:

_Sherlock, 1992, 15 with Mummy_

Mummy Holmes had died five years later in Sherlock's first year of Uni.


	2. Chapter 2

**_This Story is:_**

_Relationship: Bromance/Friendship_

_Genre: Friendship/Philosophical Stuff/_

_Prompt Words: Astrology, gloves, tree_

* * *

"Oh, come on… There's proof behind it!" John and Sherlock walked through the door of 221B after coming home from a case that had them into downtown London and back… twice. Sherlock began peeling off his gloves as John walked over to make tea.

"It is a silly myth that is an attempt to stereotype people who can't seem to figure out who they are, so they reach out to that ridiculous thought process in an attempt to figure themselves out and others." Sherlock retorted back in their argument that had been an on and off argument for the past few hours.

"Well, you can't tell me that you haven't ever looked into. Researched it at least." John attempted to make Sherlock see reason. If he didn't, he'd just have to show the man the research and shove it in his face.

"Of course I have, but that doesn't mean I agree with that idiocy. It is a simpleton attempt of unweaving the tangled thread that people are. A simple date, is _not_ going to define a person."

"Why are you so defensive? What the description of your zodiac sign didn't reach your pompous standards?" John now shot back, making a mental note of researching Sherlock's sign more in depth.

"Well, it did say that I was very creative and methodical. At least it was right about something, but that is not the point, John!" John rolled his eyes as he waited for the kettle to boil.

"What is then?"

"How can something so simple and out of our control define and make us who we are?" Sherlock now sat in a chair at the table in the kitchen in front of an old mold experiment that John had been threatened about moving.

"Maybe that's the point Sherlock." John said, smiling slightly. Sherlock looked at John with a cocked eyebrow. John chuckled as he began to pour the tea. As he began to put sugar into Sherlock's tea John said, "Maybe we aren't in control completely. Maybe we are like trees. We know our leaves will fall, we know we will blossom again and we know we will ultimately wither away. Maybe we aren't in control as much as we thought." Sherlock looked at John, his thoughts whirring at John's last declaration. Sherlock took the tea and went to lay on the couch with the tea. John shook his head and headed to the shower, his tea sitting with Sherlock's. John knew Sherlock would have plenty more to say, but it would be quite sometime. As John chucked off his shirt and threw it into the laundry bin he caught sight of his left shoulder. The jagged, pink scar had healed over and it made John think that the turn of events afterwards… _Maybe we aren't as in control of our lives as we thought we were._ John thought, and John was completely fine with that, because look at where he ended up.

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**Chapter Two FINALLY up! YAY! There will be some Holiday Season/Christmas shots too. :) We must be festive! :D**

**Hope you guys enjoyed! Please review and send in some prompts too! (Refer to Chapter 1 for prompts/prompt ideas)**

**~Catori **


	3. Chapter 3

**_This Story is:_**

_Relationship: Bromance/Friendship_

_Genre: Friendship/CHRISTMAS!/Feel good stuff/_

_Prompt Words: Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Hot Chocolate, Snow_

* * *

The snow was rapidly falling, as it had been for a good portion of the hour, but the snow falling and subsequently Sherlock's moaning, would not get John Watson down. No sir. He wasn't going to allow it. John was going to decorate this Christmas tree (much to Sherlock's annoyance. He said he hated anything pine or tree like.) John got the tree anyway, hauled it up the stairs and situated it behind his chair, with a little rearranging that needed to happen. John was currently stringing pop corn onto a string for the garland decoration. Sherlock was laying on the couch, which hadn't been touched after Sherlock had… freaked for lack of a better term, when John had suggested moving it.

"The couch can _not _be moved John." Sherlock had told him rather rigidly. "That is where I lay to think. It may not be moved." That was when Sherlock had turned back to his experiment and that had been the end of it. John hadn't dared moved the couch either. He knew when to push limits and when to stay with in those limits. The inside the limits was that point in time.

So, it ended with him now decorating the tree alone with a nice cup of hot chocolate as his companion in decorating the tree instead of his flat mate; who was still lying on the sofa completely still and unmoving. John sighed as he reached into the box of ornaments that he had collected over the years. He put a red one the tree and then grabbed a blue one. He decided to abandon the popcorn. He was reaching into the box again when he jumped. Sherlock stood in front of him holding one of the ornaments from his childhood. It was a reindeer with a Santa, the only difference with the reindeer was the nose. When you push a button on the bottom it would make the reindeer's nose light up red. John gently took the ornament from Sherlock and placed it on the tree in the middle, slightly smiling.

"Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer." John said, not sure why he felt the need to explain his reindeer ornament. Sherlock nodded.

"Why do you have it? It must be old because of the way it is made. The more current ornaments are more animated in nature, meaning it must be from your childhood." John nodded.

"Mum used to collect ornaments for Harry and me. Each year, for Christmas, we would get a matching ornament. Like one year, I got the Nutcracker ornament and Harry got a Clara ornament." John smiled and Sherlock watched him as John bent down to grab another ornament to put on the tree. When John went to reach for the next one, for around the back, it was waiting for him in Sherlock's hand. John smiled, took it and placed it near the back. The tree was soon decorated with ornaments of every size, shape, color and age. Sherlock and John stood back and looked at the tree. Completely decorated except for the top. Sherlock looked at John and then back at the tree.

"One moment." Sherlock said, darting off to his room. John watched him leave and then looked back at the tree and the decoration technique of himself and Sherlock. John had begun to fix one of the more crooked bows when Sherlock came back. His face expressionless but his eyes shining as he held something behind his back. Sherlock held it out to John and there was the most beautiful angel topper John had ever seen. Brown hair, a golden halo and a golden dress to match with soft white wings. The angel was the picture of perfection.

"Would you…" Sherlock gestured to the tree.

"It will look wonderful there Sherlock. Go on." John smiled as Sherlock nodded relieved. Once the angel was up there both went to sit down on the couch as they looked at the tree. The silence was broken when Sherlock began speaking.

"Mummy got me that angel when I left for college. She knew I wouldn't be coming back and she wanted something from her that I could take with me. She told me to start new traditions with my family. She was always the more optimistic of us, thinking I would have a significant other and maybe even children." Sherlock chuckled and John chuckled with him. "She gave me the angel though, and now I finally have a use for it. I guess I found my family after all." Sherlock said. John looked at him, his eyes gleaming as Mrs. Hudson came bustling in with tea and biscuits. So, the three sat down talking and admiring the tree and Sherlock nor John could ever remember being this happy or content at Christmas time.

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A/N: Merry Christmas... late? Eh, keep the Christmas Spirit ALIIIIIIVE! hehe. Christmas Fic. Merry Christmas! And there will be a New Year Fic too. Posted on New Years Eve my time, which would be Pacific time in the US. :) Make sure you hug your loved ones, tell them you love them and remember it's not about gifts, presents or what you got under the tree... It was and is about who you hold near and dear to your heart and who you love and want to celebrate the season with. Friends and Family.

Stay Safe, Be Happy, Find your Joy and Get LOTS of hugs,

Catori


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This might be a bit OOC... If it is, tell me, seriously. I tried vulnerable!Sherlock and kind of wise!John... And attempted fluffy ending...**

**_This Story is:_**

_Relationship: Bromance/Friendship_

_Genre: Humor/Angst/Spiritual (?)_

_Prompt Words: Fireworks, New York City New Year's ball drop, party_

* * *

New Year's Eve… Normally a time for reflection, a time to be pensive and reminisce of the year you just experienced and finally, to wonder what was in store for you in the next. There was always that flicker of hope. That little flicker that a new year brought that maybe this one wouldn't be so bad, it would be better than the last. Hope was destructive, Sherlock decided. Sure hope was good for a little bit, but then hope ran out, and it was gone and it left the person with nothing. Hope was the worst thing a person could have.

Sherlock watched as John set down a cup of tea for him and sat in his own chair with his own cup. John sipped it as he watched the world outside their window and got lost in the snow falling ever so slightly.

"What does New Year's Eve mean to you John?" Sherlock asked, his hands positioned under his chin like he was praying.

"It's a new year, anything is possible." John answered. "There is a sense of excitement and well… hope when the clock strikes midnight and signifies another year has gone by."

"Hope, such a destructive emotion." John's eye brows raised.

"Destructive and hope hardly, if ever, go in a sentence together." Sherlock ignored that and continued on as if he didn't hear John.

"A person can have a tiny flicker of hope, just a tiny flicker and they know that nothing has changed but they have _hope _for the future. The future might change from what you think it will be and what you know it will be. Some think that maybe 'I will meet the one this year', others think 'I'll loose that five or ten kilos' and some think that maybe the next year their life will end up a whole lot better then it is now." Sherlock continued getting out of his chair and going to the window. John watched Sherlock thinking that this just might be a bit personal. "The new year can hold so much hope, that maybe, just maybe, my life will turn around and someone, somewhere might just get to know… me." Sherlock murmured. "But then around the middle of the year, they see, that it isn't going to change. Reality crashes down on them after their little excursion with hope. Reality snaps you and you realize that you won't loose the ten kilos of water weight, you are still going to be employed at your local diner making nine Euros an hour while you want your writing career to take off, and that regardless of how many people you might try to save, you can't save them all. A new year might have hope at the beginning but in the end the hope you had is more damaging then having hope when you started. It makes people more broken then they already are when they see that hope isn't going to change anything." Sherlock turned around to face John and for the first time after knowing Sherlock for seven years, his silvery-blue eyes were glossy. "Hope doesn't make soldiers come home any quicker, it doesn't make anyone treat others differently and it certainly doesn't change the outcome of what's to be your life. So, why is there hope John? Why does it exist when it destroys and damages?" Sherlock asked. John sat there for a moment. Sherlock looked absolutely wrecked and generally vulnerable, the most John had ever seen him. John stood up and walked over to the window with Sherlock and looked out. John attempted to gather an answer together.

"Hope… it's like a little flicker of light in a dark night. Hope is. Hope can help conquer the most terrifying situations and can bring the most unlikely people together. With hope, we can think that there will be that one person who will hold us in their arms as we cry, we can think that people won't be hungry anymore and won't suffer and we can believe that the craziest things will happen, that's what happens when you have hope." John swallowed and his eyes looked far off. "Hope doesn't make soldiers come home quicker but it helps their loved ones believe that someone somewhere will watch over them and bring them home." John turned to look at Sherlock, "It won't make anyone treat anyone differently but it will make a person believe that one day it will be better. Hope definitely won't change the outcome in life, but it makes it a little more bearable because that flicker of hope can turn into a roaring fire and turn your whole life around. It's just a matter of time." John smiled slightly. "It can make the most unlikely person turn their life around and begin to help people. Hope; it isn't destructive Sherlock, it's the only thing that helps keep us going and helps us come together in the _hope _that things will get better. That's what hope is." John said, as he went to go get his tea cup and headed to his room to get ready for Lestrade's New Years Party in an hour. Sherlock watched him go and then plopped himself on the couch.

Half an hour later John emerged from his bedroom freshly showered and in clean clothes. He went to go grab his jacket and was about to tell Sherlock not to blow anything up while he was away when Sherlock's voice rang out in the room.

"Could you stay here for New Year's Eve?" John looked over at Sherlock and nodded. He put his coat down and went to make another cup of tea for himself. Sherlock's still sat near him untouched. John emerged and sat down at his chair while he drank his tea.

"Every year for New Year's Mummy always had an extravagant party with every different kind of high class person attending. The one year, it was a no alcohol party. I ended up taking a bottle or two of vodka and poured it in the raspberry punch and in the blueberry was some kind of sweet liquor. I didn't read the label. Everyone at the party got very intoxicated and was quite confused as to why they were. Mummy never knew I did it, she thought someone at the party had put the alcohol in the punch and was not happy, but it was still funny watching them all wondering what was in the punch that gave it such a bite or such a sweetness." John shook his head. He could see a younger Sherlock being bored and going to spike a punch bowl and watch how people reacted.

"Every year my family and I would go on top of this hill to watch the fireworks. We always had hot chocolate and blankets and we would stay out there until we were numb." John said as he remembered doing that growing up. Sherlock looked at him.

"I would like to do that next year, can we?" Sherlock asked. John nodded.

"Sure." Sherlock smiled a rare smile and settled back into the couch.

"One year, Mycroft took me to New York in America for New Year's. I got lost in Times Square and when the ball dropped a stranger ended up kissing me and ran off. Then another hugged me and said I would have a lovely family one day and went off in the same direction they went in." John out right laughed at that one. "I also tried to short circuit one of the news channels TV, just to watch them loose their heads as there was no connection for the nation. Mycroft caught me before I could successfully finish." Sherlock scowled and John smiled. One more hour until the new year was here.

John and Sherlock watched the fireworks light up the night sky as the clock chimed midnight. Blues, greens, reds and silvers flashed across their faces. They looked at each other and then back to the lights show and they both knew, with one simple look. There was hope for the year, for both of them and that hope would turn into a raging fire as they solved more cases and had a few more heads in the fridge.

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**Make sure to hit that review button down there! :) Drop a line on what you thought! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

_Relationship: Bromance/Friendship_

_Genre: Friendship/Anderson/Humor_

_Prompt Words: Man Card, Anderson, tea_

The sniggering, snickers, and out right laughing could be heard all the way in Lestrade's office. The noise would get quiet and John would watch as Sherlock would slowly un-tense over the evidence , as the noise got louder Sherlock would tense up again and a dark look would cross his face. Sherlock finally put down the report for the murder and got up, silently. He swooped out of the room and walked to where the noise was coming from. John followed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he saw the group of Yarders. Of course, Anderson was in the middle controlling the mouse to the computer that they were all crowding around. Sherlock stopped right behind them and watched for a moment.

"Obviously you are looking at pictures. Most likely pictures that are degrading, or else your baby soft brains wouldn't find them funny." The laughter died down. "I suggest you all go back to your jobs. We have a murder and it most likely is a serial killer. So, why don't you all actually do your jobs and maybe grow a fourth of a brain. Then maybe you might actually be of some help."

Anderson, of course, was the first one to speak up.

"I think both of your man cards would be taken away." John rolled his eyes and shook his head. Sherlock looked at Anderson as if he were insane.

"A man card?" Sherlock asked. John could tell Sherlock didn't like not knowing what Anderson was talking about.

"Oh, look, the Freak doesn't know what a man card is. Must have been revoked at birth." Donovan now spoke up.

"I am continually astounded by your attempt at broadening your vocabulary Sergeant Donovan."

"I am surprised that you don't know what a man card is." Donovan now shot back. "I would think you kept that stuff in your… what was that… a Mind Shack?"

"Mind Palace." Sherlock said disgusted.

"Stop." John finally spoke up from his place of leaning against the wall. "A man card is what some deem to be a card that makes a man a respectable man."

"Yeah, and both of yours got revoked a long time ago." Anderson then restated.

"You're quite redundant, much like a broken record." John said to Anderson. "It's quite funny though that you say ours got revoked, when really you have no right to speak Anderson. Yours must have been revoked quite a while ago." Anderson's mouth flopped about while some of the Yarders were dead silent. That's when Sherlock decided to pop in.

"That's it! It was gone. They took it!" Sherlock dashed back to Lestrade's office and then was back out, looking over a few of the case photos.

"Come on John! We must go back to the crime scene!"

Sherlock darted out of the building and John tailing him. Sherlock made a mental note too make sure to thank John for what he said back there… with a nice hot cup of non drugged tea.

* * *

**Another chapter of a 3 word drabble... When I should be working on catching up on school... I prefer this though. Hope you guys enjoy! Make sure to review! :)**

**-Catori**


	6. Chapter 6

**_This Story is:_**

_Relationship: Bromance/Friendship_

_Genre: Friendship/Craziness/Sherlock's insanity... That is all._

_Prompt Words: Nyan Cat, New Tab, Computer_

* * *

Sherlock's face was illuminated in the dark room by his computer screen. Sherlock had sat motionless for a few hours after stumbling across a finding that caught his attention. A pop tart, with a cat head that flew and shot out rainbows intrigued him, and now a few hours later, Sherlock Holmes was playing Nyan Cat on his computer, uninterrupted and at a score 1,525,654. He wasn't expecting John home until at least 9 o'clock that night and it was only 7 o'clock. Sherlock had time to beat the high score of 5,649,887.

Sherlock was absorbed in the game by the time 9 o'clock rolled around and his score was up to 9,999,456. He was so close to 10,000,000 and he would beat all of the people on the high score board. Just a few more moments… Suddenly, John came into the flat, slamming the door behind him. Sherlock jumped, a bit startled and watched as Nyan went flying off the screen and the score was 9,999,929. Sherlock glared at John who look at Sherlock in confusion. That was when the game decided to return to the main menu, the music now playing and John quirked an eyebrow.

"Sherlock, what are you doing?"

"Nothing. Research." He desperately tried to sound bored but was afraid that a stammer might have been present while he was talking. John's sly grin was more than enough confirmation.

"Sherlock, are you playing a… computer game?" John said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"No. Who would do such childish activities? I have better things to do with my time."

"Oh, really? Let me see the screen."

"No."

"No?"

"No." John nodded at Sherlock's answer and looked like he was about to go to the kitchen, when suddenly he was darting to Sherlock trying to see the screen and Sherlock now struggling to hide it from him.

"Let me see the screen!" John yelled, while laughing.

"No!" Sherlock yelled back, while trying to get a new tab to pop up on the screen. They struggled for a few moments until John had the computer in his hands and checked the cookies since Sherlock had closed the browser. John just laughed as he saw Nyan Cat Game on Sherlock's cookies.

"How long have you been playing that game?"

"A few hours." Sherlock replied as he snatched the laptop back. "I almost had the high score before you came in."

"Well, excuse me for entering the flat."

"You're excused." Sherlock said simply. John just rolled his eyes.

"You are such a child; a child in a 30-something-year-old man's body." John said, his voice having the fond edge to it and not an annoyed tone.

"Am not."

"Would you like a sucker too?" John teased as he walked into the kitchen to make tea.

"Do be quiet John." Sherlock said, as he went back to the computer. John heard the music of the game and chuckled… Such a child.


	7. Chapter 7

**_This Story is:_**

_Relationship: Friendship_

_Genre: Friendship/Humor_

_Prompt Words: One Direction, Frustrated, Cup_

* * *

John growled in frustration as another One Direction song played on the radio. It was fine to listen to once… maybe even twice but five times on four different stations in less than an hour? It was an atrocity and giving him a horrible head ache. He turned off the radio and got up to go boil some water for tea. Maybe that would sooth him. As the kettle was put on and he got out a cup he heard the door open and close. The sound of heavy shoes walking towards and John got down another cup. He poured the tea as his flat mate traveled in. Sherlock walked into the flat and removed his coat as he went to sit down on his chair. He then looked at the radio near John's chair. Laying down, turned off, John making tea and John's footsteps all but sulked for himself.

"What song were you listening to?"

"A One Direction song. It came on at least _five_ times on _four_ different stations." Sherlock hummed as he placed ear buds in and began scanning the stations on the radio. John assumed that his flat mate was once again on the classical channel listening to Bach or Mozart. Then his foot began to tap and John became suspicious as to what Sherlock could actually be listening to. Suddenly the One Direction song was playing, at a high decibel and Sherlock looked at John.

"Do you mean this song?" Sherlock asked over the voices traveling through the radio. John looked at Sherlock, his whole body giving off that he was beyond annoyed, and raised an eye brow. Sherlock, not turning down the radio, smiled; actually smiled, at John. John set Sherlock's cup on the counter and walked off to his room without saying a word. Though he swore he heard Sherlock laughing when his door slammed shut.


End file.
